The Gym Induction occurred yesterday. Since joining, my only additional exercise had consisted of carrying the gym card and credit card receipt around in my wallet.
I was disappointed to note that rubber gloves were not involved. Nor was a candle, a box and the attendance of three or four fire appliances (replete with men in silly hats and breathing apparatus.) Or was that convection?
I forget which, but I've had a happy flashback to the time my class managed to set the physics lab aflame 20 years ago.
But I digress. The fearsome (and frankly bonkers) Jane was not present. Instead I had to make do with the utterly gorgeous and charming Samantha. During conversation she revealed she had several children (I played the First-born trump card) which is often, but not always, indicative of a current relationship. Only one way to find out...
She also revealed that her father ran the motorcycle team for which Joey Dunlop raced, so a happy hour of Isle Of Man stories was passed while she introduced me to the various instruments of torture/cardio vascular equipment.
I am apparently extremely fit (thanks mainly to the bike ride.) This is also apparently a Bad Thing if I'm seeking to shift the spare tyre that has settled around my waist.
"On Wednesday, we'll look at the weights"
7 words to strike fear into the bravest of hearts.
Oh, and she's also going to set me up with a motorcycle school; learning to ride (without killing myself while doing so) is on The List Of Things To Do.
This time next week I'll be celebrating my first 24 hours in my new house. SO excited.
